


Cursed Child Ficlets Collection

by L_awlietxoxx



Category: Cursed Child - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-27 00:43:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7596688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_awlietxoxx/pseuds/L_awlietxoxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I've had a ton of thoughts and inspiration swirling around in my head since seeing the play. Half are scenes or character elements I yearned to see more developed; half are the fantasy scenes the play immediately set off. All of these are Scorbus to some extent - ranging from friendship to romance to something not quite defined in the middle. I also definitely got a bit fixated with Draco and Scorpius' relationship and Malfoy angst in general (kind of ironic since Scorpius was such a humorous character). These started as just fun exchanges with a friend to indulge our shippy headcanons, so a few aren't completely developed as much as I'd like. Guess I'll have to keep writing! :) I do have a list of other scenes I want to explore in my head, so more forthcoming!</p><p>I doubt anyone would be on this page to begin with if they were worried about spoilers, but just in case... *deep breath* MAJOR CURSED CHILD SPOILER ALERT AHEAD!!!!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My friend and I were trying to recount all of the Scorbus hugs in the play, remembering the charmingly awkward dialogue where the one getting hugged would say something like "We hug now? Do we do that?" Then we came up with the blueprint for a first kiss scene centered around "...so we kiss now?" I wrote this scene like an alternate ending that might have happened during their very final scene together at Hogwarts. Let me tell you, if Scorbus is always this joyful to write, I'll be writing it until I'm old :'3

“Sorry, I can’t. Dad’s coming. He wants to go on a walk.”

“A walk?” Scorpius asked, stepping back onto the bottom step of the staircase, rather than leaving for the Quidditch pitch just yet. He reached his hand up on the banister to lean closer to where Albus stood above him. 

Scrunching up his face a bit, Albus said, “I think it’s supposed to be a bonding thing.”

They both immediately broke out in matching expressions of disgust and feigned gagging noises. Then, giggling a bit, Scorpius floated up a step higher and Albus gravitated down another. Smiles lingering, they both stared at each other a bit vacantly. They held each other’s gazes without anything precise to convey, just lingering in the easy glow of the other’s presence. Since all that happened, these moments of quiet, uneventful life at Hogwarts each felt precious, along with the freedom to dawdle in them a bit.

“It’ll be fine. With your dad. I’m sure of it.”

Albus gave a sort of half nod, half shrug to his friend’s words. “We’ve both made mistakes. Me especially with the whole almost-ruining-history thing…”

“Luckily you had Malfoy the Unanxious there to save the day.” Scorpius joked, lifting his head high with affected airs of grandeur. “You and your dad don’t have to thank me at once.”

“Pfft, but you did what exactly at Godrick’s Hollow? Besides melt into a big puddle of geek at Bathilda Bagshot’s door? It was MY brilliant idea to use the blanket.”

“Yeah yeah, I’ll admit that was right clever. But you couldn’t have done it without MY potions smarts.”

“Alright, you helped a bit,” Albus pretended to admit begrudgingly. But then his joking expression gradually faded. “I reckon we were both lucky to have each other there. I couldn’t have done it alone.”

Scorpius’ mouth half lifted, somber but sincere. “Neither could I.”

Albus made a noise of dismissal. “But you did fix the world without me there, after we went back the second time…”

“You were still there with me,” Scorpius blurted. Then he backpedaled to clarify, “I mean… obviously not there actually, since… you know, you didn’t exist…” Scorpius looked down to fiddle with his pocket, swallowing uncomfortably as he recalled that world, even briefly. “But that’s just it. I knew I had to do whatever it took to fix things and get you back, no matter what. And I told you… when I faced the dementors, I wouldn’t have gotten away if Snape hadn’t told me to think about you.” With his head still ducked downward, Scorpius’ gaze lifted up towards Albus through his lashes – His eyes weren’t shy, because the two didn’t get shy around each other anymore. They held more just that fidgety Scorpius edge. “See? Even when you weren’t actually there, still couldn’t have done it without you.”

An automatic, slightly melty smile brightened Albus’ face and his eyes crinkled a bit. “Then… glad I could help. And…” He bumped a fist lightly against Scorpius’ shoulder. “Thanks for saving me, by the way.”

Scorpius just chuckled in reply, pretending to rub his shoulder as if injured where Albus had hit him.

“Look…,” Scorpius started a moment later, then abruptly fell silent. Looking down again, he shuffled his stance on the staircase twice, then three times. Albus could tell he was over-thinking his words – the tip off was always when Scorpius pulled the arms of his jumper down over his fingers to fiddle with them. But just when Albus was about to ask what was wrong, Scorpius beat him to it. 

“I don’t think it’s going to work out with Rose.”

Albus pulled an amused expression at both the sudden topic change and his friend’s obvious-statement-of-the-year.

“What, because she calls you ‘Breadhead’ and kicked you that time you hugged her? What makes you think that?”

“I know, I know, but there’s something else.”

Albus paused in uncertainty. Scorpius’ tone had suddenly dropped, and his fingers had started gnawing at the ends of his sleeves more intensely than Albus had ever seen.

He waited a few seconds for clarification, but Scorpius didn’t even lift his eyes from the steps beneath him. 

Then, just when Albus opened his lips to ask for clarification, Scorpius suddenly lifted his head and darted up the two small steps separating them. Barely after Albus registered Scorpius lurching towards him, and long before he fully understood what was happening, he felt a warm brush against his parted lips and realized they’d been left slightly damp.

His mouth opened and closed soundlessly a few times while Scorpius slowly back-pedaled the two steps again. He was redder than Albus ever could have imagined a pasty Malfoy to be. 

Under the somewhat terrified, somewhat uncertain look Scorpius was fixing him with, Albus’ lips tried to form words a few times without coherent thoughts to give them noise. His thoughts were whizzing by so quickly, it was like his brain had suddenly switched over to a foreign language.

“We kiss now? Do we do that?” he finally managed to get out, his voice not entirely all there. Much to his embarrassment, it came out quite squeaky,

“I-… I don’t know. I hoped…” Scorpius was clearly struggling just as much as Albus with coherence. He finally settled for, “What do you reckon?”

Scorpius had made quite the leap, so he thought it only fair that he leave the ball in Albus’ court now. He resigned and did his best to compose himself for his friend’s response, making himself keep looking up to observe Albus’ face for any hints of whether he should just take off in the opposite direction.

“I think… yeah. I think it’s just right.”

And then Albus was the one to descend and close the gap between them. His hands messily grabbed the shoulders of Scorpius’ robe and it may have been a bit awkward how he bent his head down, but Scorpius’ brain caught up with what had just happened and luckily processed the floods of disbelief, joy, and holyshitwhatdoIdonow quickly enough to lift himself up on tip toes to meet Albus’ lips. 

They broke apart only a moment later, both immediately looking around the staircase as if in fear of being caught. No one was in sight. Slowly and – for the first time either could remember – slightly timidly, their gazes slowly met again, with blushes coloring both of their faces. They wouldn’t have felt nearly as embarrassed if they’d known the other found their own blush equally as endearing. 

They were standing only one step apart now, Albus’ hands on Scorpius’ shoulders and their noses almost brushing. Biting his own bottom lip so hard it hurt, Scorpius tilted his head a bit so his nose did bump against Albus’. Albus let a soft, breathy laugh flutter across Scorpius’ lips, before placing another peck there. Scorpius stopped biting his lip just in time to return the follow-up kiss. 

Their fumbling kissing may have been out of sync, but as usual, they sensed each other perfectly at every other level. Together, they broke into softly excited, fluttery laughter and Scorpius’ hands found Albus’ waist as they swayed a bit on the staircase together.

“I’d better go find Dad. And didn’t you say you were going down to the Quidditch pitch?”

“I diiiiid, but…,” Scorpius drawled, grinning again. “Quidditch doesn’t seem half as exciting anymore…”

“And I can’t remember father-son bonding ever sounding less appealing…”

“But then again, I wouldn’t your dad to come zap me because I made you miss him. Or because he found me kissing you.”

“Don’t worry, I would never let him zap you.”

“My hero.”

“Oh, shut it.”

They separated with mirroring grins and soft laughter in harmony. Hearts were racing in each of their chests, and their fingers couldn’t resist flirtation as they descended the stairs the rest of the way. Stepping off the staircase with their index fingers linked felt like a new, undiscovered path in a woods they both knew and loved well – where they’d played their entire life long. Neither had to worry where it would lead – they only knew they were brimming with anticipation and joy to explore its winding way together. 

“See you in the dormitory later. Tell me what your dad says. … But probably don’t tell him we snogged.”

“God, no. But you call that snogging? Just wait until the dormitory tonight!” Albus gave a teasing wave over his shoulder, grinning as he turned the corridor.

Scorpius stared after him for a moment, just letting amazement and thrilled delight wash over him for a moment. He repeated Albus’ words, his teasing promise to himself a few times, until the smile on his face was more than sizeable enough to last all the way to the Quidditch pitch. Really, Scorpius was sure it would have lasted halfway around the world.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright, let's bring on the angst. :'( I couldn't stop thinking about how much Scorpius' experiences in the second alternate world must have affected him, even though he was a brave bad-ass and figured out how to fix everything in the end.

"Albus...? Where are you?" 

There was no answer. The dormitory seemed too dark, too empty, too silent. Scorpius suddenly felt cold all over. 

"Al?" He said in a whisper now, stumbling out of bed, half-awake but already sensing things were all-wrong. Albus' bed had the wrong color curtains hanging around it. It only took a split second of looking for Scorpius to tell the shape sleeping in the bed wasn't that of his best friend. Everything started to spin and Scorpius suddenly felt ill.

On his way stumbling to the common room, he passed Voldemort's banners hanging on every wall. Breathing hard, he rubbed his eyes. Hard. How was he back here in this hell again? He though he remembered using the time turner to fix everything... He though he remembered Severus Snape... a turning blackboard... a tunnel leading to someone who helped him... But suddenly the memories seemed as illusory as mist. Had he only dreamed that he'd escaped?

He hugged himself, rubbing his hands over his arms as if he could rub away the unnaturally cold air in the castle. It never used to be this cold...

"Albus..." He sank slowly to the floor of the empty, lifeless common room, his shoulders shaking silently.

 

"Scorpius! SCORPIUS!" Albus had to give him a shake, but then Scorpius gasped and scrambled up in bed, struggling against the sheets like they were trapping him and gasping for breath.

"No, no, where am... Where is... Albus!!"

Seriously concerned and a little frightened himself, Albus grabbed Scorpius' shoulders. "I'm right here! Calm down, it's okay! Whatever it was, it's okay." 

Scorpius' heaving slowly subsided, and his gaze finally started to focus as his thrashing gradually calmed under Albus' hands. Very slowly, his eyes traced up Albus' pajama-clad body to his face, as if refusing to believe the sight.

"A-Albus?" Scorpius rubbed tears away with a fist. "Is that really you?"

Albus slowly lowered himself onto the bed to sit next to Scorpius. "Yeah it's me, I'm right here." He let his hands fall from Scorpius' shoulders to take his hands tightly in his own instead. He squeezed them reassuringly.

Scorpius stared down at their clasped hands for a long time, before his gaze slowly, almost fearfully, started to trace around the dormitory. He looked for any trace of that terrible symbol, but luckily found none. Albus' bed looked just as it should... Everything seemed in place...

Gingerly and apprehensively - because this was the one thing he simply couldn't bear not to be real - Scorpius looked into Albus' face. The other boy smiled reassuringly. With the moonlight illuminating that face Scorpius swore he'd never get tired of looking at, Albus raised a hand to brush Scorpius' cheek before resting his palm there. "Are you okay? Pretty nasty dream? ... It's okay, I promise, I'm here."

Scorpius took a quivering breath. "Yeah, you're here..." He raised a hand to cover Albus' against his face. "You're here."

Scorpius half launched at Albus, half fell into him... But next thing Albus knew, he was holding an armful of Scorpius and his friend was crying against his chest.

"Scorp..." Albus whispered, arms coming up and tightening instinctively around Scorpius.

"You're here, you're here you're here," Scorpius kept chanting into Albus' chest. Albus had just raised a hand to stroke through Scorpius' hair when Scorpius suddenly lurched back a bit. "Tell me you're not going anywhere. Promise me you won't leave me."

The concern evident on his face, Albus replied, "Never. Never, Scorpius. I'd never want to be anywhere other than with you." And he cupped Scorpius' face between his hands and leaned in to kiss him. Scorpius' mouth was still trembling, but letting the irreplaceable, unmistakable taste of Albus' lips wash over him finally carried him over the edge of conviction. THIS was real.

After kissing until they couldn't breath anymore, Scorpius rested his forehead against Albus' while his hands kept grappling at any part of Albus they could reach. They were clutching the arms of Albus' Molly Weasley-knit pajamas when he started to talk softly. 

"It was the worst... The worst nightmare because it wasn't just a dream. It was real, it was a memory but for a little while it was real. It was the here and now. He was back and ... I couldn't ever live in that world. I could take the mud blood screams and the darkness... No happiness anywhere in the whole castle and it would have been torture to have to stay there... because no matter where and how much I looked, you weren't there. You weren't even alive. The world was just empty of you and I couldn't handle being so alone... I couldn't- I couldn't do it..." Albus tried to gently shush him, wrapping Scorpius in his arms as he tried not to imagine the terrible emptiness of a world without Scorpius - of being trapped there, even for a short time. "I could handle Voldemort being back, Umbridge as headmistress... But what I couldn't cope with..." Scorpius clutched tightly to the back of Albus' pajamas, and Albus could feel him shaking a little.

"I swear, I'm not going anywhere," Albus whispered against Scorpius' blonde hair. "You're back now. Everything's right again, and I promise I'm not ever letting you go. You're not ever going back there. Even if I have to fight your dreams off."

For the first time, Scorpius smiled a little. "How do you reckon you'll do that?"

Albus smiled back a little and pecked the corner of Scorpius' mouth. "Not sure yet. But for you, I'll find a way."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to write a scene with Scorpius opening up and talking to Albus about his struggles to come to terms with his family's past legacy of being Death Eaters. That's how it started... and it turned into the longest fic so far. I discovered I also really wanted to explore Draco's decisions in how he raised Scorpius and how he tried to shield Scorpius from the family's past... and this kind of took a life of its own from there.

In their fifth year, Albus and Scorpius had originally been excited to watch Slytherin play Gryffindor in Quidditch for the house cup. The school year was nearing its end, and this would be the most important game of the year. Usually, neither of them were particularly interested in Quidditch, but now the house cup was on the line. Yet they - Albus especially - would inevitably end up impulsively cheering for James now and then, so even if Gryffindor won not all would be lost. Either way, the game should be good. Or that's what they'd thought.

It had been years since Gryffindor and Slytherin had faced each other in the year's final match, and what was considered the school’s fiercest and most long-standing rivalry drew crowds of press and reporters to the Hogwarts grounds surrounding the stadium. While most students weren't bothered in the slightest, Albus and Scorpius found themselves accosted on their way to the match.

"What side you going to be cheering for then, Potter? The Gryffindor deep down in you's got to be about ready to break out, don't it?"  
"You going to be cheering for your brother today, Albus?"  
"Oh, or are you going to hex him if he's playing too well? Bet your pal Malfoy here could teach you a thing or two about hexes."  
Scorpius stiffened, and Albus immediately sensed it. He gripped Scorpius' jacket at the wrist and started pulling him through the throng of reporters at a determinedly faster pace.  
"Watch out there, Malfoy might break out his Dark Mark if things look bad for Slytherin!"  
Albus made a frustrated sound. "Make room, you numpties!"

Albus pushed their way through the throng of reporters, pulling Scorpius with him before any more jeering questions could be launched in their direction. Albus' mother had long trained him to spot Rita Skeeter's dreaded blonde, teased-up hair a mile away - and he quickly pulled Scorpius in a beeline in the opposite direction when he spotted her.

Finally up in the stands where only students were allowed, Scorpius quipped, "Numpties? You better watch that foul mouth before it gets you in trouble - not that it didn't make me all tingly watching you defend me with fighting words like that." Yet to Albus, Scorpius' tone was half-hearted at best.

Albus elbowed him. "Forget that rubbish. Nothing's going to spoil the best Quidditch match of the year, mate."

With exaggerated care, Scorpius dug a hand into his robes for a minute before producing with triumph the Slytherin flag he'd procured from some first-years who'd practically been throwing them at people in the Common Room. "Woohoo, Quidditch! You know, that's our favorite thing! I mean, the way they fly around and throw the... what is it, quarfle through those hoop things? And that smitch thing?" He deadpan-enthused, his hands waving around in that characteristically-Scorpius way. "That's my favorite part!"

Next to him, Albus finally let out a genuine giggle. "We are pretty hopeless with Quidditch, aren't we?"

"Completely and utterly!" Scorpius confirmed, waving his flag and high-fiving all the Slytherins in the vicinity with an occasional "Go Slytherin! Yeah!"

While Scorpius was distracted putting on his show, Albus watched him with a smile that betrayed melancholy. Affection and anger flew in a flurry within him - anger towards the reporters' venomous words, covering a long-simmering rage at the gossiping, vengeful society that made boys like Scorpius who'd never had any more to do with the dark arts than boys like Albus had, perpetual pariahs for the unchangeable legacies of generations past. While they were both similarly shadowed by their fathers - Albus could hardly imagine a rumored legacy so much darker and heavier than his own, like the one trapping Scorpius. As hard as his own childhood had been under the weight of the Potter legacy... The whispers that followed Scorpius had trained him to respond with his overtly joking, hopelessly awkward persona that silently sought approval and compulsively begged forgiveness. The fact that this loving, jovial - if sometimes self-deprecating - exterior was the shell Scorpius had grown, rather than vengeful hatred or anger, had made Albus instantly attached to him. After that, the attachment had quickly bloomed in intensity, protectiveness, and innumerable forms of love.

"Alright there, Albus?" Scorpius asked when he noticed Albus' somewhat-distant expression, purposefully jostling him as Scorpius took his seat next to Albus.  
"Yeah fine, just fine," Albus replied, trying to direct his attention to the Quidditch pitch and away from memories of those weeks in first year when Scorpius had often been quieter and despondent, while their History of Magic lessons covered the Battle of Hogwarts. Several students had been punished by Headmaster McGonagall for bullying Scorpius and other children whose last names matched those of past Death Eaters. Albus had come into their dormitory one night to find Scorpius curled up in one corner of his bed with the curtains drawn, so only Albus from the bed right next to him could see inside. He was softly crying, his head buried against his knees and some dark substance clumping in his hair. Albus had come and silently sat down beside him. Scorpius hadn't needed to look up to know it was Albus.

"Salamander blood," was all he said. "They stole it from the Potions classroom. For all the blood spilled by Voldemort."

They'd spent the night with Scorpius' head in Albus' lap, sniffling intermittently while Albus alternated between rubbing his shoulder and stroking the offending substance from his hair. Then they'd never spoken of it again. Albus had often wondered whether he should broach the topic, if it might help Scorpius to talk through it, but had never had the heart to be the cause of a fall in Scorpius' spirits.

After a thrilling and terribly close match, Slytherin won. Albus and Scorpius, along with the whole Slytherin section, whooped and cheered and threw themselves at each other to exchange celebratory hugs in every direction. Watching the defeated Gryffindor team trudge from the pitch, Albus couldn't wait to gloat at James the whole summer long.  
Still whooping and recounting all the most thrilling plays with their friends, Albus and Scorpius didn't stop grinning until their path back to the castle encountered the same swarm of reporters. But this time... "Damn it all," Albus muttered. Rita Skeeter led the pack, and the combat-happy gleam in her eyes as she hurried towards them showed there would be no escape this time.

"That was quite convenient, wasn't it, boys?" She immediately started prodding, leering at them a bit over her fluttering quick-notes quill as her reporting entourage flanked up behind her. "I have no idea how Gareth - the best keeper not only on Gryffindor but largely thought the best in the entire school - could have missed blocking so many goals."  
"Must have had an off day," Albus replied curtly, not even looking at her as he immediately tried to push past her. She didn't let him, with everyone around her packed in so tightly.  
"It was almost like he'd been hexed..." She mused aloud in that sickeningly over-sweet voice of damning suggestion. "Oh boys, it's obvious. Potter, you wanted your house to win, plus the added bonus of your older brother - Seeker for Gryffindor - looking foolish." The reporters ringing her were nodding to themselves vigorously as they scribbled along in their notepads - as if Rita's words alone attested truth. "And as for young Malfoy here..." Scorpius fixed the woman with a look that mixed scorn and fear. "He's been carrying the mantle as the next generation Malfoy at Hogwarts but hasn't yet seen his house win a single House Cup? Of course that had to be rectified for the sake of the Malfoys' long-lasting house pride... But I'm sure that wasn't the only thing he was trying to prove?"

"Don't listen, let's just get out of here," Albus muttered, attempting again to push their way through the crowd.

"Only a year after The Augury's plot to restore You-Know-Who was foiled, and you and young Potter heroically chasing her through time to stop her... Maybe it's made you hunger a bit for the glory of your old family legacy, at the side of the most terrible and powerful wizard of all time..."

A breaking, choking noise suddenly erupted from Scorpius' throat. 

"Do you really think you're the first!?" He burst out so suddenly and loudly, most of the crowd around them fell still. Now, his eyes had Rita Skeeter trapped in a fearsome glower that made even Albus shiver to look at. "Do you really think you're the first to suggest that because I'm a Malfoy, I’m so ambitious that of course I'm spending every available moment searching for a way to return to the old 'glory days' when my family was feared as one of the Pureblood families allied closest to Voldemort, who helped him torture and kill and persecute Muggle-borns? Yes, between all my lessons, that's exactly what I spend my time thinking about. And naturally, jinxing a bloody Quidditch match is really how I'm getting on my way to resuming the Death Eater legacy - For a dark wizard who's stone cold dead, thank god. And do you know what the only words coming out of your mouth should be? It should be thanks that I risked everything to help make sure he stays in his rotten grave forever." Scorpius' hands were clenching and his fingers flicking in and out in violent twitches at his side, attesting to his contained fury. "And I'd give my life in a second to make sure he stays locked up there forever, because even one minute spent in a world where he ruled was enough for me to feel ashamed for every single person who ever helped him. I'd take any manner of gruesome fate here in this world, because any version of hell is a paradise in comparison to being associated with his very idea."

Finally rendered speechless for a moment, Rita and her entourage fell silent and immobile. Scorpius resolutely gripped Albus' arm and hauled him away, towards the castle where sweet refuge from any reporters waited.

 

The Slytherin common room was a veritable chaos of celebration. Between the Quidditch team members being carried over a sea of cheering students and the bangs of sparklers and various Weasley products, there wasn't a single corner free.

"I don't much feel like celebrating." Scorpius had to raise his voice over the noise, but to Albus' perceptive ears, it might as well have been the most morose mumble. Looking over at Albus, Scorpius visibly tried to call up a smile. "But you stay and party - This is the first time we've won the Quidditch Cup, after all."  
But Albus immediately shook his head. "It's no celebration without you." Scorpius hesitated for a moment, giving Albus a look of gratitude, veiled by regret. "Let's just go down to the dormitory," Albus said to reassure him. "It'll be quiet there." 

Together, they retreated from the boisterous celebrations to the blissfully abandoned boys' dormitory.

It was silent for a few long minutes. Albus tried to give Scorpius some space, pretending his attention was engrossed in the book he had randomly picked up on his bed. But he couldn’t help sending constant glances towards Scorpius’ bed. The other boy had flopped down on his back without even removing his shoes, and his gaze hadn't strayed from the ceiling. His face looked mostly blank, but every now and then Albus caught twinges of painful or angry thoughts ripple across his face, like someone had pinched him.

"You shouldn't think on it," Albus finally said gently, laying the pretense of his book aside.

"How can I not?" Scorpius replied softly, helplessly. "Who knows what that horrid woman's going to write about me now."

Albus desperately wished he had something to say. But more so, he wished he could stop the past from inking over their present. Their travels through time had already threatened Albus enough with the repercussions of what laid in his father's past - and Albus' foolish idea that he could overcome it. For Scorpius, the closeness and constancy with which his family legacy had followed his steps had stirred the most heinous of rumors and isolated the youngest heir to the Malfoy name. Albus understood better than anyone that there was no escaping a father’s shadow, but could scarcely imagine the weight of all the terrible aspersions attached to Scorpius’ shadow…

With a frustrated sound, Scorpius finally pulled himself up on his bed and abruptly turned towards Albus. 

"Don't you ever want to ask?" He demanded. "Haven't you ever been curious?"

"Only the way you're curious about history you read in textbooks. Never because it had anything to do with you."

Scorpius tossed his head towards the window, his fingers drumming uneasily against the bed sheets. Albus wished more than anything that he could lay his thoughts bare to his friend’s scrutiny. He wanted Scorpius to never spend a second in doubt – For as long as he had known him, not once had Albus ever looked at him with suspicion. Not once had Scorpius’ name carried any meaning to Albus other than what Scrorpius had fashioned for it himself, and the experiences they’d made together.  
But, frustrated, Albus knew that simply following up his assertion with “Really” or “I mean it” would be woefully inadequate.

Scorpius gave a loud sigh from over on his bed, seeming to shrink in on himself a bit as his uneasy fidgeting finally subsided. He was left sitting on the edge of the bed facing Albus, his hands resting empty between his knees. His gaze, fizzled out of its previous frustration, fixed on the floor. He started to speak – vacantly at first, then gradually gaining in feeling.

“I know you’ve always felt dogged by your father and everything he did. I know you hated the attention and the pressure, and how it all kept you from being able to have a normal relationship with him like you should have, or the freedom to live your own life. Whatever you did on your own would pale in comparison to his legacy, and even when you did something great, it would be attributed more to ‘Potter’s son’ than actually to you. I understand all of that… but my problem is… it’s not a legacy of heroism that’s following me.”

Scorpius took a deep, slow breath. He closed his eyes for a long moment before letting it out. Albus remained still and silent on his own bed, just watching his friend with a gentle gaze he hoped would convey that Albus was here to listen to however much or little Scorpius wanted to tell him. That Albus would always be here, willing to wait for the moment when Scorpius was ready to speak.  
For years, neither of them had ever been sure it would come at all. Scorpius opened his eyes and made himself take the leap. Maybe forming it into words would flush out some of the poison.

“I’m proud that my father and grandparents deserted from Voldemort’s ranks during the great battle. They finally did the right thing, and though it doesn’t atone for everything… Without that, I couldn’t live with them. Couldn’t live with myself. But… that’s not the part that anyone else seems to remember. 

“Dad took a different path from Grandfather, after that. Growing up with just him and Mum, I didn’t even know about anything the Malfoys had done until I started reading the history books on my own, getting ready for Hogwarts. And I kept asking myself… how could my own flesh and blood, my own Grandfather, really believe those things about Muggle-borns? When I asked Dad what he believed, he always looked like he’d rather pitch himself off a cliff than talk about it. The only answer I ever got was when he told me to ask myself, given that he had never tried to impart any of that to me. And Mum…” Scorpius had to pause to take a steadying breath. “Mum… I simply can’t imagine… can’t even bear to think that she ever…” He shook his head minutely. “It can’t be.

“But even though my childhood with just Mum and Dad had been free from all that darkness, everything changed when I got old enough to start looking like Dad. Apparently I’m his spitting image from his Hogwarts days, and Scorpius Malfoy – with my own beliefs and feelings and life – might as well not even exist, in comparison to everyone’s fear of the past. Now that Voldemort’s dead and gone, people need the next target – the next possibility of where dark magic may come from. So many times… I can tell that people don’t even see me when they look at me. They see their own fears and paranoia reflected back at them. They see in my blonde hair, my face… the closest connection to the side of history everyone wants to be rid of. And then I seem just as dangerous as whatever terrible things they can imagine…”

“We both know that’s ludicrous. Anyone who actually gives half an ear to those ridiculous rumors obviously never met you, probably never even seen you. Once anyone gets to know you…”

Scorpius interrupted with a hollow laugh. “That’s just it – most people don’t want to get to know me. You know, I’ve thought it’s almost funny… So many people hate my family because they don’t want to be reminded of Voldemort’s horrors, and yet those same people are the ones who keep dragging Voldemort back into the present – into my present.”  
Scorpius’ voice swerved across the last two words. 

He leaned forward on the edge of the bed, his head slumping down between his hands. He had long ago lost the fear that Albus would desert him because of his family’s past, yet even still, it suddenly became too difficult to look at Albus. Scorpius had never voiced these things. To his parents was unthinkable, and before Hogwarts he’d never had a friend anywhere near as close as Albus. And although Scorpius knew that he was himself committing the same offense both of them resented of blurring the distinctions of past/present and father/son, he just couldn’t help somehow feeling that slightest bit more pathetic, baring the depths of his torment for a boy who was the outcome of the brighter, victorious side of that same past. (Though Scorpius knew full well – brighter didn’t necessarily lessen its burdens.)

Albus’ bed creaked as he slowly stood up. Scorpius watched his shoes scuff across the floor towards his own bed, then felt the bed dip under Albus’ weight beside him.  
“It’s their loss,” Albus avowed, his voice still soft but tinged with a new fierceness. “Don’t you spend a second thinking the problem’s anything to do with you, when people are ignorant and close-minded and fearful. No one has any right to hold that past over you. It’s their problem if they’re cowards about a wizard who’s dead and gone. You’re too good for that. With you, all the Malfoy name means is kindness and bravery and the brains of a giant history geek.”

Scorpius gave a hint of a laugh, a corner of his lips twitching upwards. He turned his face away as he swiped a thumb across one of his eyes. 

Albus finally seized the moment to voice what he’d always marveled at in his friend, “The only question I’ve ever had is how you’ve stayed so forgiving and strong.”

Scorpius gave a noise of apparent disbelief. “I’m neither of those. I’m a sniveling little…”

“Stop. We both know that’s rubbish.”

“Is it?” Scorpius finally turned his head back to look at Albus. For the first time since they’d entered the dormitory, their eyes met. And held.  
Scorpius’ eyes were red but mostly dry, as if they weren’t sure how they should react to the topic that had always been taboo. Even so, looking into them made Albus’ heart fill – first with pain to see all the uncertainties and insecurities that had made a home there, and then an overwhelming swell of indignation and protectiveness.  
Moving a bit closer, Albus raised his hands and took Scorpius’ face between them. 

“Yes. You’re every teacher’s favorite student. You don’t ever hold grudges, you keep a smile on your face instead. You’re always kind, even when people don’t deserve it. You’re always patient, even when I don’t deserve it. And you’re so strong, you used the time turner with me even though it meant getting closer to the past that’s caused you pain. You saved my life – everyone’s lives, really. Even though you might have had a life of glory and adulation in the other world, you were never tempted to change things. You stuck to what you knew was right You saved this world – that’s how forgiving and strong you are.”

Scorpius sniffled once while that vague hint of a smile began to appear again. “Does sound pretty close to heroic when you put it like that…”

“It is heroic,” Albus affirmed with a smile, while one of his thumbs gently stroked back and forth along Scorpius’ cheek. “Harry Potter who?”

They both gave a matching short laugh. Albus silently rejoiced to see some of the spirit and light slowly filtering back into Scorpius’ eyes.

“I mean it though,” Albus amended, his voice now pitched lower and intimate. “You’re the best hero I know.”

“Albus…”

Albus pulled him in, and Scorpius went gratefully. They hugged and held onto each other tightly. Scorpius closed his eyes against Albus’ shoulder, even though with each passing moment in this private world of Albus’ affirmation and acceptance, the bigger world out there became less and less something to hide from. 

 

“I like when you do that.”

Scorpius sighed softly as Albus’ fingers made soft paths through his hair. Scorpius had his head leaned in Albus’ lap, in a not-entirely-accidental recreation of the night from their first year they’d never spoken of since. They’d pulled the curtains around Scorpius’ bed shut, just in case any of the other boys came back from the party early.

“Did it help? Talking about it?”

Scorpius opened his eyes to look up towards the ceiling of the dormitory, thinking in silence for a moment while Albus’ fingers continued gently combing through his hair.

“Yeah, I think so. I’ve never been able to talk about it with Dad. And even though I didn’t get answers about the past and the direct role my parents might have played in it… The dark tangle of worries and questions and frustrations I’ve always carried at least got unknotted a bit.”  
Albus nodded. “Good. I’m glad.”

A lazy, gently intimate silence surrounded them, wrapping them in comfort and safety. Scorpius was amazed to find himself perfectly at peace – unfathomable from the depths of his near breakdown of only an hour previously.

“Scorpius,” Albus added softly from above him. “I want you to promise that the next time you want to talk about any of this, you’ll tell me. I know I can be stupidly obsessed with my own problems, but I don’t ever want to risk not being there for you. So you tell me if you need to talk, yeah? Otherwise we keep all this rubbish far away, and it doesn’t even deserve thinking on.”  
“Deal,” Scorpius agreed. He slowly reached upwards, until his questing hand found Albus’ in his hair. He weaved their fingers together. 

“Thanks for being here with me, Albus. I’m sorry I ruined the party for you tonight, but I’m really glad I’ve got you.”

Albus smiled, slowly but full of warmth. 

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” 

He squeezed Scorpius’ fingers, and leaned down to place a light kiss on Scorpius’ brow.

 

When the delivery owls arrived at breakfast the next morning, Albus snatched up the Daily Prophet before Scorpius could. If Rita Skeeter had written some lousy rubbish about Scorpius’ outburst after the Quidditch match, Albus fully intended to keep it from Scorpius’ eyes at all cost. He didn’t want Scorpius to suffer a single day more because of cruel gossip.

Scorpius watched silently over his porridge bowl as Albus shook out the newspaper and opened it. Naturally, he was a bit nervous, but found he didn’t care nearly as much as he would have before the previous evening. 

Albus was quiet for a long time. …Too long. He had the paper up like an unmoving wall between them, so Scorpius couldn’t gather any clues from his expression.

“Well? What’s the damage?” Scorpius asked with nonchalance that surprised even himself. Finally, Albus lowered the paper. He fixed Scorpius with a serious, appraising expression for a long moment.  
“What?” Scorpius asked with a nervous laugh, because he couldn’t read Albus’ expression. It wasn’t the disgust or outrage that Rita Skeeter’s bollocks usually evoked.

“She didn’t write anything. But another reporter who was there did. Must have had a Quick-Notes Quill running or something… Read this,” Albus finally said. He handed the paper over and pointed towards a small boxed-off article on a bottom corner of the front page. “Young Malfoy Finally Raises Voice.”

 

“The press has never treated young Mr. Scorpius Malfoy very fairly. Many tabloid publications and, admittedly, even some here at the Daily Prophet have sunk to gossip and fear mongering, always in attempt to shock or scandalize readers. This should be to our shame. Finally, after decades of hard-fought battles and uncountable losses, our front pages must no longer be covered by catastrophes or death tolls. But what have we done with our hard-won time of peace? We have taken one of the brightest and most promising of this new generation and subjected him to slander. Bright and promising young Mr. Malfoy certainly is. Past conversations with any of his Hogwarts teachers see approving nods and smiles come to their faces when they tell of his constant top marks. It’s plain to see he is among all the teacher’s favorites, with a bright future ahead of him. ‘He would make an inspiring historian or teacher some day, said current History of Magic Professor. ‘Scorpius has such enthusiasm for learning, and appreciates knowledge more than anyone I’ve seen his age.’  
And yet, despite all signs of an inquisitive mind and a tolerant, kind heart, we must nevertheless ask ourselves what will become of young Mr. Malfoy. What will become of a boy who has so much to offer the world, when he applies for a teaching post and his prospective employer stops reading only after the name people used to gossip might be You-Know-Who’s son? Absurd and impossible though it is, what if enough people continue to mindlessly spread such cruelty?  
Scorpius, like all his Slytherin classmates, hoped to watch his house play Gryffindor in Quidditch yesterday for the coveted House Cup. Instead, he was accosted by journalists. I, I’m not proud to admit, was among them, following the crowd to what I hoped would be a hot story. As he returned from the stadium after Slytherin’s victory, Mr. Malfoy was subject to invasive, jeering questions and barely-veiled accusations of a terrible sort no child of school age should ever have to hear. Apparently – after years of hearing such things – Mr. Malfoy decided the same. Below is his response to the abhorrent intimidations of Ms. Skeeter. I wished to publish it only to give young Scorpius the chance to speak in response to baseless rumors that have unjustly silenced and condemned him. Furthermore, people fear that which they don’t know, but let there no longer be any excuse for people to claim suspicions about the feelings of an ordinary Fifth-year simply trying to live out his life. Scorpius was born into the first generation to live in a world free of You-Know-Who’s terror – that is, unless we ourselves fill their lives with the terror we fought so hard to defeat.”

 

Beneath the article was, sure enough, a significant portion of Scorpius’ declaration from the day before, printed word-for-word. Scorpius didn’t know what to think. He slowly laid the paper down on the table. Something in the back of his mind was telling him this was a good thing, but there was one immediate concern growing huger and huger until it consumed his thoughts.

“Oh god, what’s Dad going to say? He hates when anyone even brings up anything to do with…”  
Scorpius’ breathing started going a bit wild. Concerned, Albus immediately reached over to pat his arm.  
“Maybe he won’t even see it,” Albus tried. Scorpius gave him a skeptical look and shook the newspaper a bit frantically.  
“Hello? Front page!”  
“Okay, okay, true… but why would he take a problem with it?” Albus stilled his hand on Scorpius’ arm, just resting it there and leaning closer in attempt to calm him. “Scorpius, this reporter finally pointed out how hypocritical and wildly unfounded all the terrible rumors are. Someone finally depicted you, as you are – the big nerd who would never hurt a fly.”  
“And that’s loads better?” Scorpius questioned, though cracking a smile despite himself. Of course, Albus was right… Even if his father got angry that the Prophet had written another article dredging up the family’s dark past, hopefully he would approve the new spin. Yet, no matter how his father reacted, the more Scorpius thought about it, the more grateful he began to feel for the article. The more appreciative he felt that someone had finally stuck up for him – even though doing so just meant telling the truth.

 

Scorpius couldn’t say he was surprised when an owl arrived from his father later that day. 

'I would like the chance to speak with you tonight. I have asked the Headmaster to allow you to travel by floo to the Manor, only for this evening. When you finish your classes for the day, I’ll be waiting.'

“Guess there’s no use in trying to put it off…” Scorpius mumbled at dinner, lacking appetite for a single thing on his plate. Albus watched him sympathetically. “I’ll go to the Headmaster’s office right after dinner. Hopefully Dad won’t be too mad.”  
“You really haven’t done anything. It’s not as if you had any idea what you said was going to go down in print.”  
Scorpius just shook his head to himself morosely. “I should have known, around reporters. I should have controlled myself better…” He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I’m just going to go now. Get it over with.”

Before Scorpius could get up from the table, Albus briefly caught his hand. “It’s going to be okay, Scorpius, no matter what your Dad says. I think this article was a really good thing for you. What you said yesterday was really moving, and I know I’m not going to be the only one who thinks so. No one can cast doubt on you after that.”  
Scorpius pinched his lips to the side and bowed his head slightly. “Thanks, Albus. Hopefully you’re right.” He gathered up his things and slung his school bag over his shoulder. “I’ll see you later tonight – Tell you what he says.”  
Albus nodded, sending his friend off with a supportive smile and a small salute. 

 

After stepping out of the hearth in the dining room, Scorpius found his father in his study. He was looking over a score of papers scattered across his desk – a quill hovering over them in his hand, but the ink looking long dry.

Scorpius cleared his throat. “Dad?” When his father looked up, Scorpius shuffled in the doorway for a moment, unsure. “Is now a good time?”

“Scorpius. Yes, of course it is. I’m glad to see you.”

Finding the greeting safe enough, Scorpius straightened up as he came fully into the room. Immediately, his gaze found the corner of a newspaper on one of the far corners of Draco’s desk – buried messily under a stack of other papers, perhaps suggesting a haphazard attempt to hide it. Scorpius debated whether he should just break into apologies straight away. He bit his tongue and made himself keep quiet. He would wait for his Dad to speak first, and gauge the situation from there. Albus had been right – Scorpius hadn’t really done anything wrong, after all. He’d just been so tired of being subjected to the speculation and the ridicule, and the way Rita Skeeter framed it had been all of his nightmares combined.

Draco cleared his throat and stood up from behind his desk. He took a moment to brush down his robes, and Scorpius was a bit surprised to see that he seemed to look a bit uncomfortable as he came out from behind the desk – nervous, perhaps. Scorpius certainly wouldn’t have described it as angry.

Draco came around to stand in front of his son, leaning back against the wide desk. He cast a glance in the direction of the half-buried newspaper.

“I’m sure you know what I wanted to talk about.” 

Scorpius nodded, his gaze switching compulsively between the ground and his father’s face. He couldn’t bear to look at either one for too long. He heard his father take a deep breath. When Scorpius looked back to his face, he found his father’s eyes had become wholly unveiled, completely open and gentle towards him. Scorpius couldn’t remember a look like that since he’d been very small.

“I’m proud of you, Scorpius.”  
Scorpius jolted a bit at the words. They weren’t what he’d been expecting, but hope immediately surged in him. Oh, how he hoped his father really meant it… His father never wanted to talk about the past or admit it a place in their lives, and Scorpius had assumed he would be enraged by Scorpius addressing it so directly and admitting how it still affected him. But maybe, … maybe he’d misunderstood his father’s feelings all this time…

“I wanted to tell you that,” Draco continued. “And to thank you. For saying what I never could.  
Against his will, Scorpius’ hands started trembling a little. “I-I don’t understand… I always thought…”  
Draco shook his head slightly, more to himself than his son, and continued on, “You don’t know how many times I thought – If I could just go to the Prophet, give them an interview explaining everything, the rumors would be addressed and you wouldn’t suffer anymore. But I knew it wasn’t that simple. If I even acknowledged them publicly, they would just say I was trying to cover it up. So I thought the best decision was to ignore them – not treat them as anything more than the ludicrous myths they were.”

His father’s words made sense, but Scorpius couldn’t help a brief flair of anger. The door had finally been opened, and he was old enough now that he had to know. His father had to let the topic crack.

“And how would you have explained it?” Scorpius asked with a cool, controlled voice. He wanted this to be a rational conversation on both of their parts, and did his best to clamp down years of frustration and confusion. This was too important – the first time his father was finally letting him ask, and his father had controlled his own emotions so far. His father’s anger on the topic had historically been the bar to its mention, so Scorpius certainly didn’t want to provoke him.

With a deep, difficult sigh and a long pause, Draco lowered his gaze a moment to where his hands were clasped in front of him. He methodically wrung his hands once before he spoke. 

“I would have said… that I understood people felt the need to be cautious, to be vigilant. But that there was a difference between vigilance and cruelty. Astoria…” Father and son both blanched at the mention of Scorpius’ mother, the hint of her so dearly missed presence suddenly charging the room. Draco made himself keep going, though his voice hitched audibly, “…Your mother was always sickly. Anyone who knew her could have attested to that. There was nothing out of the ordinary in the fact that we had to go away to protect her rest and health when she was pregnant with you. It was only imaginative, twisted minds that pulled any dark connections… I know, Scorpius, that you were the one who had to live the stigma of those rumors every day, I know they made it so hard for you at school… but to this day, I can’t bear the fact that so many people think I would have done that to her…”

Scorpius suddenly found wetness flooding his eyes. Ashamedly, he had never thought of that. His childhood had been one with loving parents – both to him and each other. The implication that his father would have betrayed his mother, sold her out in such a way… it must have violated his father as much as it did his mother’s memory.  
Another deep, steadying breath from Draco, pushing himself on once he managed to tamp down the onset of his own emotions. He had to gaze at a nondescript spot on the carpet, rather than into his son’s face. 

“When you were born, there was only one thing I wanted for you more than anything. It was to never have Voldemort’s darkness in your life, like I did. I know my parents and my aunt did things that can never be forgiven – and I did my fair share too… but you were born in a time free of all that. I wanted better for you. I wanted you to be able to have the choices I never did – to choose your loyalties, your friends, to fashion your own dreams. In a time without Voldemort, all that was open to you. I wanted you far away from this family’s legacy of hatred and intolerance. I was brought up believing it, but I realized later that it never brought me a single day of happiness. It only made me feel alone, bitter and full of hate, during my years at Hogwarts. As soon as you were born, I knew I wanted you to be free of those Pureblood ideals, so you could be free to choose your own path, to love others and be both accepting and accepted. And I was so proud, each day, to watch you grow into the kind-hearted boy you are. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons I don’t relish recalling the past… I already know you’re so much a better man than I was.”

“I wouldn’t say that, Dad,” Scorpius interjected, and Draco had to smile ruefully despite himself. “At the battle of Hogwarts…”  
“At that point, it was too little, too late. Yes, your grandparents and I refused to fight for Voldemort anymore, but we did nothing to right our many wrongs. We abandoned the battle field, but we should have switched sides.”  
“I don’t hold it against you.” Draco finally looked up to his son’s face. A resolute sheen glinted from Scorpius’ eyes. “Leaving his side was no easy task. It’s enough.”  
“I’m not sure that I agree, but… thank you, son.” 

Scorpius offered half a hopeful, reconciliatory smile, looking up at his father from where he stood with his head still slightly bowed. Draco marveled at what a smile from his son could evoke in him. His greatest fear since Scorpius’ childhood had been that his son would never speak words like this, that the unthinkable things the older generations of Malfoys had done during times of war would one day make Scorpius hate him. It would have been perfectly justified, perfectly understandable, yet Draco had never dared to broach the subject – afraid that speaking about the past with Scorpius would bring it too directly, too problematically into the midst of the new life he’d made with Astoria and a son he cherished too much…

But the Prophet article had finally made Draco realize that, once again, he’d miscalculated. 

He took the step forward to his son, so he could place his hands on Scorpius’ shoulders. He realized with a start that his son had almost reached his own height.  
“Scorpius, I want you to know… Your mother and I brought you up sheltered like we did because we truly thought it would be best for you. All we ever wanted was to protect you. When you left for Hogwarts… I realized that had only fueled the cruelty that would follow you, and by then it was too late. Your mother…” Draco’s hands began to tremble slightly. Scorpius covered one with his own, hanging on each and every one of his father’s words. “Your mother and I didn’t want an heir for the Malfoy legacy. We wanted a family. And you made us so happy… You still do. You make me very proud. And I’m just sorry that we couldn’t give you better – that our history has placed such an unfair burden on you that god knows you don’t deserve. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more to free you from it.”

“I know you can’t help that. I know you can’t change the past… I just wish you would have let us talk about it.”

“I realize now, that was wrong. It wasn’t possible to just shut out the past or deny it. Even if we didn’t speak about it at home, plenty of people would once you left for Hogwarts, and if you didn’t have the chance to sort through it yourself first… that only made it harder for you.”

Scorpius bit his lip, nodding as he looked down to the carpet. He chewed his bottom lip for a long moment, organizing his thoughts and mustering up his courage. 

“Can I just… can I ask you one thing?”  
Draco let his hands fall back to his sides. He kept his face neutral, nodding although his heart began to race nervously. “Of course. It’s long overdue that I answer whatever you’d like.”

Scorpius started fiddling with the sleeves of his robes. It was clear on his face he was focusing on formulating his words just correctly…

“If you had the chance, would you change the outcome of the final battle?” Scorpius took a deep breath, and spit out the heart of what had tortured him his entire life long. “Did you switch sides before the battle ended, or because it did?”

“In my heart, I switched sides long before that. Your grandparents were another story though, and I couldn’t leave the battlefield until they were ready to do the same. They only wanted to get away from everything, but… if not for them… I would have fought with Potter, in the very end.”

Scorpius let out a massive, relieved rush of breath. He felt as if he might collapse on the floor. He had to place his hands over his face to steady himself. “That’s what I always thought, what I always hoped…” he said, hushed. After a long moment of standing there with his face hidden, swaying in place slightly with the swell of emotions battering his insides, Scorpius suddenly lurched forward and threw his arms around his father’s shoulders. He held on tightly, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Thank you, Dad.”

Truly speechless for the first time that evening, Draco closed his son in his arms. 

“Thank you, son. Thank you…”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, I love writing scenes of parents accidentally walking in on/finding out about kids' relationships. I've written a couple already of how Ginny might find out about Albus and Scorpius. This one takes place during the Play's Part II, when they're waiting in the church to spring their trap on Delphi once Harry lures her inside.

“I’m scared.”

Instinctively, Ginny moved towards the sound of her son’s voice. So small, so fragile… Just the sound of it was more compelling than any Imperius curse could ever be. 

The narrow, winding corridors beneath the church floor hid her way in darkness. The church was quiet as they all waited for Harry to return, luring Delphi with him, and they had all dispersed themselves to wait near the several doors that opened onto the church’s main room above, to catch their foe surrounded. Ginny felt her way around the corner with her hands, led by the slowly dancing light of a candle in the small chapel where she had told Albus to hide. 

How could she have thought to leave him alone? She wanted him far from the fighting, but that meant that until Harry returned, Albus would have to wait with nothing but the knowledge that his father was out there alone, facing the gravest peril of Albus’ lifetime… 

She’d been amazed by her young son’s bravery when he’d tried to assure her that everything would be alright, but even still, he was now left with the memory hanging over him of his father looking out at him with Voldemort’s eyes… Her arms ached to take her son in them, to guard him from at least some of the terror of this Hallow’s Eve.

“It’ll be alright. Your dad knows what he’s doing.”

Ginny paused at the sound of a second voice, just before she rounded the final corner. It was Scorpius. She hadn’t kept track of where Draco had sent him, but she supposed she should have known the two friends would end up hiding together. 

“It’s crazy, but you know he was right. He’s the only one who can fool her and get away with it. He’s going to be fine.”

Ginny didn’t hear Albus reply. She didn’t hear anything for a long time. But against the dim candlelight flickering on the wall, she could barely make out shadows moving strangely. She thought she could pick out one each for the two boys, but then they shifted, and in the wispy candlelight she could no longer pick out her son’s shape. She couldn’t see for sure that he was safe and alright, and she couldn’t bear another shred of uncertainty on this night…

She leaned around the corner just enough to peer into the dim, windowless chapel, and it immediately became clear why the shadows had seemed to become a single, conjoined shape. 

Albus was curled up in the tight circle of his friend’s arms. He sat with his knees drawn up and his arms wound tightly around Scorpius beside him, his hands underneath the green fabric of Scorpius’ jacket. Scorpius had one arm securely around Albus’ shoulders, while the other held Albus’ head against his own shoulder. It might have been a product of the mercurial candlelight, but Ginny thought she saw a certain tenderness in Scorpius’ hand – the way he cradled it against Albus’ hair.

“Tell me one more time,” Albus whispered, so softly Ginny barely heard.

“It’s going to be alright,” Scorpius murmured in reply. Then he tipped his head down the few inches towards Albus’, and left a kiss in his hair. 

Oh. 

Of course Ginny couldn’t have just imagined something like that. When it came to her youngest son, her senses were always fine-tuned to everything that happened around him – protective and attentive, aware of the bodies around him and whether they might mean him harm. She couldn’t believe she’d never noticed before the physical intimacy, the tangible trust and the gentle draw between her son and his closest friend. 

Ginny was surprised, strangely, by a well of some murky emotion she had no name for. She supposed the closest description was jealousy. She had been drawn instinctively to her son as soon as she realized his distress, but found him not in need of her. Someone else had stepped into the role she had rushed through the dark to fulfill. 

Of course, she loved all her children equally, but the way Albus so resembled Harry in his youth had always made Ginny especially protective and sensitive to him. And of course, James had had plenty of girlfriends, but Ginny had watched them come and go, somehow knowing none of them would be the one she would one day have to give her son up to. But Scorpius and Albus were both different. Ginny had known from early on – just the way Albus spoke about him – that the two would be friends for life. It had brought her comfort to see the depths of their friendship, to know that Albus always had at least one steadfast haven of safety at Hogwarts, no matter what troubles found him. But she didn’t know how she’d missed just how deep their caring for each other had become. Had she not paid close enough attention to Albus to catch this part of him? 

“You know, even after all the mistakes we made, even after we messed everything up so much and Delphi used us… It could always have been so much worse.” Albus raised his head from Scorpius’ shoulder just enough to look up into his eyes as Albus spoke. “After all, at least we’re still together. Still got each other.”

“Yeah,” Scorpius replied in an almost non-existent whisper, the melancholy smile pulling one corner of his lips to the side showing the distance of the memories that had suddenly appeared before his eyes. “Yeah. That’s why I had to hug you in the lake that time, when I realized time was fixed. I can tell you, a world without you was the most terrible thing… So as long as we’ve still got each other…”

“It’s going to be alright.”

Guided by the hand Scorpius still had resting on the back of Albus’ head, they found each other in a gentle, simple kiss. Ginny quickly looked away, but it was nothing more than a short exchange of comfort. A moment later the two sat silently side by side again, leaning against each other from their shoulders, down to their feet.

Ginny pulled back around the corner before either of the boys could see her. Even while her breast ached for her child, even while she knew he must be frightened – like all of them were – and her heart longed to be the one to console him, she could see clearly for the first time how much her son had grown. How much he’d experienced and braved on his own already, without her shelter. She knew she would never be able to protect him from everything, yet it made this moment no easier. Albus had experienced his own trials, his own terrors – and with each passing second Ginny grew more and more thankful that there was someone beside Albus with whom he had shared it all. Because beyond that helpless, lifetime urge to always be the one closest to her children, who understood their needs and fears best – Beyond even that was the wish that Albus never be alone. Albus and Scorpius had lived joys and horrors together that no one else could ever understand. They had come to know and trust each other in ways not even Ginny could provide for her son. Ginny perhaps hadn’t been prepared for any of her children to forge a relationship like that so early in life, and of course she wished some of the hardship that had brought Albus and Scorpius so tightly together had never had to befall them. But suffering couldn’t be avoided any more than it could be undone. At least, in some way, the challenges in her son’s past had yielded him something invaluable, and created something beautiful.

Taking care for her silence, Ginny slowly retreated back to her outpost. It was clear that Albus was far from alone. No, he was in safe, caring hands. She suspected she could be confident that he would be for a long, long time. Her inner turmoil having passed as soon as it came, she now found herself feeling lighter, relieved. She retook her post behind one of the doors leading up to the church. For the moment, one of her Potter boys didn’t need her to fret over him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just some straight-up, indulgent Scorbus fluff :'')

They were going to do school work. At least, that's what they told Rose's disapproving look when she saw them scurrying out of the castle when they should have been going to study hall. As far as Scorpius was concerned, he really did plan on reading that Potions assignment, but Albus had barely even paid attention to which books he'd tossed into his bag as soon as the plan had been made to ditch down to the Black Lake. It finally seemed to be the first real day of spring outside, and both fourth-years were grinning as they raced down the grounds.

"This is loads better than sitting in a musty classroom," Scorpius declared with a wide smile as he shook out a blanket and laid it down in the idyllic spot overlooking the lake, right between two overhanging trees. They settled down with their shoes off and books out, each with their backs against a tree trunk and their toes just touching. Albus soon realized trying to focus would be a hopeless cause.

Just enough sunlight was filtering through the trees to shimmer against Scorpius' pale hair. Albus didn't think Scorpius realized he did it, but his brow furrowed quite adorably and his mouth silently half-formed the words as he read. Albus found himself just watching the other boy for a while - he was far more mesmerizing than anything in Albus' transfiguration book. 

With a bit of a sly smile on his face and his expression schooled into something he hoped would seem alluring, Albus slowly nudged his toes closer and closer, until they traced over Scorpius' foot to his ankle. Albus watched Scorpius slowly smile into his book before his gaze slid upwards. Albus stroked a toe against Scorpius' ankle and raised his eyebrows in the sexiest way he could.

"Are you trying to seduce me, Albus? Because you look a bit like you're having an aneurism." 

Albus sputtered. "Well, that's the last time I try to seduce you!" He looked away from Scorpius with an exaggerated frown while the other boy laughed. 

"Oh no, I assure you - it was quite effective. I'm about to throw my clothes away into the lake!" Scorpius dropped his voice into his own joking attempt at being sexy and gave Albus an over-the-top coy look over his book, "Oh Mr. Potter, go ahead and ravish me. Please have your way with me."

"Oh I'll have my way with you alright," Albus muttered before tossing his book aside and lurching over to tackle Scorpius. 

"No, stop!" Scorpius exclaimed amongst both of their laughter as they rolled around, mock wrestling as Albus attempted to pin Scorpius down and subject him to tickling. "The books! The books will get ruined!" Scorpius protested. 

Albus laughed with a roll of his eyes. "Not the books!" He exclaimed sarcastically as he raised his hands up in mock-surrender. 

He was still seated mostly on top of Scorpius - his legs bracketing Scorpius' midsection. The air stilled and grew more somber between them once Scorpius laid his book safely aside, leaving them both looking at each other with their breathing still elevated.

"Seriously though," Albus said, "Don't ever call me Mr. Potter. Sounds like my dad and that's way too weird."

"Maybe I have a secret thing for your dad."

"Yeah you and everyone else, seems like. Also god help me, no."

Scorpius' joking smile softened into one that was just fond, and one of his hands touched Albus' leg.

"Don't worry, Al. You know I only ever had eyes for you."

In reply, Albus could only smile and blush in equal measure. With one of his fingers tracing against the back of Albus' calf, Scorpius added, "Kiss me, Albus" in a soft voice that didn't feign its allure.

His heart beating faster from the intimate tone of Scorpius' voice than it had from the play wrestling, Albus first reached down to touch Scorpius' fingers where they rested on his leg. He had nothing witty or even half-logical to say, in such close proximity to Scorpius' so purely open and loving expression. Finally, Albus very deliberately and carefully leaned down - fitting himself just right against Scorpius' chest so their eyes would be on par.  
His nose brushed Scorpius' before their lips met. The first kiss was a gentle, simple caress against Scorpius' upper lip. Then, with their mouths widened in matching smiles and eyes closed, their lips fully met for a proper kiss.

They hadn't yet had very much time or opportunity for kissing. It was still very much an explorative, innocent, mistake-ridden affair. But no matter if Scorpius' kisses landed lopsided, or if Albus couldn't figure out what to do with his tongue, the sensations sent warmth coursing all the way to each of their toes. They kept falling out of sync now and again as one of them opened or closed their lips before the other had a chance to, but that owed to the gentle shared pleasure rendering their thoughts so lethargic. Yet even so, they ended on a perfect delivery. Albus' mouth found Scorpius' upper lip while Scorpius Albus' lower.

When they slowly pulled away, Scorpius couldn't help a sound that seemed distinctly like a giggle. The blush on his face only grew darker after the undignified sound escaped him. Albus smiled wide in return, being in such close exposure to the joy and affection radiating from Scorpius' face.

"You should always smile like this," Albus declared.

"Yeah? Stay cuddled up like this and there's a good chance it'll stick around."

Scorpius reached to pick up his book again as they shifted around. Scorpius sat up a bit with his back against the tree, so Albus could lean back against him. Scorpius opened the book with his arms on either side of Albus. Albus leaned his head back into Scorpius' shoulder and added, "Actually, I changed my mind. You should save that smile just for me."

 

Fifteen minutes later, and Scorpius hadn't really made any progress in the Potions reading. It was a pleasant, warm distraction, with Albus in his arms and half in his lap. Scorpius took to reading some passages out loud to try and make himself focus - plus he was sure Albus hadn't done the reading himself yet. 

It half worked. 

“Oh, isn’t this fascinating! When combined with the right proportions and care, salamander tail and essence of dittany have in rare instances been known to create a unique and exceedingly rare potion whose color changes to each individual eye and whose effects have not yet been properly documented…”

Albus rolled his eyes with a little laugh. “You are such a dork. Remind me why I date you again?”

“Hmm let’s see, there’s my sizzling wit, my dashing good looks – girls would kill for this shade of blonde, you know – and… oh, my legendary heroicism from the fact I saved your life.” Albus leaned his head back to give his friend a skeptical look. “Well, you know… saving you from not being born I think should definitely count the same as saving your life.”

“Seems like a technicality to me.”

Only seconds later, the jovial tone in the air perceptibly sank. Albus immediately regretted that the conversation had turned this way, while Scorpius was busy internally kicking himself for bringing it up. He let the book sink so that one of his arms could wrap around Albus’ shoulders instead, pulling him back a little more tightly against himself. Being with Albus always made him so light of heart, made the joking words and jibes come so easily – The dark memories and the baggage stayed a minute removed. He reminded himself that terrible other world was far, far away and gone. He was here now, back with Albus with everything like it should be and nothing would tear them apart, as Albus had repeatedly promised him. 

“You’re right,” Albus murmured, reaching up one hand to entwine his fingers with Scorpius’ against his chest. He tipped his head back against Scorpius’ shoulder to share a wide smile with him. “It’s that incredible blonde shade. When I saw you on the Hogwarts Express the first time, I thought ‘Wow, there’s a boy with some nice hair.’

Scorpius laughed abruptly. “Actually, let’s be honest here. I think it took you years before you realized you liked my hair or anything about me in that way, really.”

“I was quite slow and deluded, I’ll admit.” Albus played with Scorpius’ fingers, looking out over the lake and watching a few dark clouds in their slow glide among the purer white ones. 

“But what did you think of me the first time you met me on the train?”

Scorpius was quiet for a long moment, his gaze following Albus’ to rest on the slow dance of the clouds.

“I thought… Please, all gods above, let him be sorted into Slytherin with me. Because I don’t think I’ll be able to bear a single day when I don’t get to look into those beautiful eyes again.”

“Scorp…” Albus let out a rush of breath, his fingers stopping their idle play to grip Scorpius’ more tightly again. 

“You know, when I was first sorted into Slytherin, all I could think was no, no, this is a disaster and I kept trying to come up with some way I could fix it or undo it… But then, I think it was about halfway through first year, when I went home for the holidays and even though my parents accepted it, James teased me and there was definitely tension about it… I realized I wouldn’t have changed it for the world anymore. Slytherin was where I belonged. I felt safe there, like it was right… But that was because Slytherin meant being with you. Now, I think being sorted into Slytherin was the best thing that ever happened to me. Maybe we’d still be here today, together, if I was wearing Gryffindor robes instead, but I would never risk going back to find out. I wouldn’t change a single thing, wouldn’t want to let go of a single thing we’ve done and experienced together. … Except maybe making you wait so long for me.”

“Yeah, that was kind of shit of you,” Scorpius mumbled, because a joke was the only thing his mouth could produce while his heart reeled so hard and incoherently from Albus’ words.  
Albus just chuckled, and gave Scorpius’ hand an understanding, knowing squeeze. Scorpius had had a clear understanding of his own feelings for much longer than Albus had, but despite– or perhaps because –of that, while he could profess his feelings to Albus easily enough, hearing Albus reciprocate in the affirmative – that Albus’ heart really did twist and turn and flip over in his chest for Scorpius the same way Scorpius’ long had for him – moved Scorpius immensely. No quirky quip or silly joke, just diffident silence.

They sat together in stillness for a while, Albus perfectly content to lean back against Scorpius with Scorpius’ arm twined around his shoulders and his chin resting against Albus’ hair. Then a sudden crack of thunder echoed across the lake, and the dark clouds that had slowly been making their approach suddenly loosed a rush of rain earthbound. Unluckily, the trees the boys were sitting under were far too sparse of leaves to offer any protection. They both jolted at the sudden douse of cold rain. 

“Oh bloody hell! Quick, pack everything up!” Scorpius exclaimed, as both jumped to their feet and started throwing books into their bags and attempting to roll up the blankets before they got too drenched. Just as Scorpius was stuffing the last things away and the rain began rushing in earnest, Albus paused and straightened up for a second, withdrawing his wand from his robes.

“Wait! I think I remember the conjuring spell for an umbrella!”

Scorpius’ raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Albus, we both know you’re a nightmare at conjuring.”

“Oh, shut up and hold out your hand.”

Scorpius obliged. Albus pointed his wand at the outstretched hand, squinted his eyes in focus, and muttered a few words under the patter of the rain.

Both gave a surprised start when a dull clap sounded and something in fact did appear in Scorpius’ hand in a whiff of smoke. Both blinked – it wasn’t an umbrella. It was flowers. It was the sappiest, most cliché bundle of roses and lilies imaginable.

“Um. That wasn’t what I intended…?” 

Scorpius looked up at Albus for a long moment. The rain was beginning to plaster his hair across his forehead, but Scorpius was rooted to the spot. He found he didn’t care – about the rain, or whether Albus had intended it or not. Albus was so bad at both conjuring and lying, there was really no way to know.

Albus’ gaze eventually traced from Scorpius’ face down to the flowers, hiding no small bit of shock that he had actually succeeded at conjuring something. He stepped closer to inspect them, reaching up to rub one of the rose petals between his fingers. 

Staring at Albus over the flowers, Scorpius murmured just loud enough over the rain, “Well, Albus Potter, I never would have pegged you for such a romantic.” Albus laughed, his hand dropping from the rose petal to land on Scorpius’ wrist. Neither felt the rain anymore, the roar of the downpour had been filtered out from their world. 

“Why don’t you just kiss me, Scorpion King?” Albus’ said, face creasing with a smile.

“Ooh…,” Scorpius made a deep humming sound. “I never liked that name until I heard you say it.”

Their eyes held each other’s for a long moment, but they erupted in laughter before they could draw closer. With Albus’ hand still holding Scorpius’ wrist, they both leaned into each other’s space as they laughed at their own ridiculousness. But as they both quieted and their eyes found each other’s again – the rain dripping off both their faces and the flowers swaying in the space between them – that same absurdity was exactly the space of them that was home.

Scorpius kept the flowers gripped in one hand as Albus stepped into his arms. Albus’ hands sank into the wet folds of Scorpius’ robes behind his shoulders, and not even the rainwater could dilute the sweet taste of the other’s lips.

Scorpius found himself thinking three words he knew it was far too fast to voice. But when Albus leaned back and smiled at him, Scorpius felt only warm, dry reassurance from the words. There was no reason to worry he felt the wrong thing. There would be more than time enough.

Bags hitched on their shoulders, they made their way back towards the castle with one of the blankets spread over both of their heads. Huddled beneath, they each kept a hand free to stay clasped together between them.


	6. The Bath Tub Remedy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius struggles with nightmares about his time spent in Voldemort's world. Over the following summer at the Potters' house, Albus discovers a treatment.

“The stillness. That’s always the worst part.”

Scorpius’s voice echoed back softly in the Potters’ bathroom. The steam billowing from the faucet over the bathtub clouded the air, softening all the sound in the room into gentle ambience. Dew drops of condensation beaded together against the tiled walls, before dripping down in a slow race towards the floor. 

“I know. But it’s all gone now. That world is gone, and you’re never leaving this one again.”

The echo of Albus’s voice mingling with his own finally brought relief and comfort, making the steamy air warm and soothing. Scorpius closed his eyes. He wanted to ask Albus to keep talking forever. About anything, everything. The sound anchored Scorpius in reality, shooing off the nightmares and the memories of a cold, dark, lonely world where Albus was never to be found.

Scorpius raised his arms automatically when Albus’s fingers slid gently under the hem of his shirt. Scorpius’s eyes stayed closed, every bit of him completely relaxed and trusted to the other boy, as Albus carefully tugged Scorpius’s sleep shirt off over his head. Albus folded it before setting it aside next to the sink. Next, Albus skimmed his fingers along the waistband of Scorpius’s pajama pants. 

“Hold onto my shoulders,” Albus murmured. 

Once Scorpius steadied himself, Albus crouched down to remove Scorpius’s pants for him. Scorpius stepped out of them, and Albus swiftly rid him of his underwear as well. 

“The bath should be ready,” Albus said as he folded the rest of Scorpius’s pajamas and laid them neatly aside.

Scorpius turned off the tap and tested the water. Albus quickly stripped off his own pajamas while Scorpius lowered himself slowly into the water. 

He let out a long sigh as the hot water folded him in. He always felt so lethargic and weak after one of his nightmares, but luckily he and Albus had discovered a remedy. 

“Grapefruit or lavender?” Albus asked, holding up two bottles he’d retrieved from the shelf under the sink.

“Hmm… Lavender.”

Albus replaced one bottle, and brought the lavender-scented shampoo with him when he came over to kneel beside the tub. 

Knowing the routine, Scorpius held his breath and dipped his head under the water. He made sure his hair was thoroughly wet before sliding forward in the tub to sit beside where Albus kneeled. 

In unison, they both slid into a long minute of gentle, welcome relaxation as Albus opened the shampoo bottle and poured a little into Scorpius’s hair – careful none dripped into his eyes. Albus wet his hands in the bath water before he started gently lathering the shampoo into Scorpius’s hair. 

Scorpius closed his eyes again, his body going relaxed and limp in the warm water while Albus’s soapy fingers rubbed through his hair. Even after the shampoo was worked in, Albus spent an extra minute just massaging his fingertips against Scorpius’s scalp, trying to relax the other boy as much as he could. 

Scorpius focused on the soothing points of contact, concentrating only on Albus’s touch and letting all else just melt and be cleaned away. 

He felt himself being grounded and rooted again – here where he belonged, where Albus took care of him, where he and Albus would never be separated again. Each gentle slide of Albus’s fingertips in his hair rubbed the lingering traces of Scorpius’s nightmare away, like an eraser eroding an alternate world drawn only in pencil. A grim, terrible world, but one that could be wafted away like steam in the air.

For Albus’s own benefit, he spent one more minute just stroking the soapy strands back from Scorpius’s forehead, savoring the silent intimacy of the ritual and the absolute trust in Scorpius’s closed eyes and relaxed, beautiful expression.

Even though it meant tasting soapsuds, Albus bent close to press a kiss to the side of Scorpius’s forehead. 

“Time to rinse.”

Guided by Albus’s hands, Scorpius bent his head under the faucet. Albus turned on a gentle stream of water, and Scorpius kept his eyes closed while Albus carefully and thoroughly rinsed the shampoo from his blonde hair. 

Scorpius imagined the running water washing away the dark shadows of dementors from his dream, and all his fears disappearing down the drain with them.

“Alright?” Albus asked as he turned the water off and held a towel before Scorpius’s face. Scorpius nodded as he took the towel blindly, using it to dry his eyes before opening them. While Scorpius pat his face dry, Albus carefully climbed into the tub behind him. 

As soon as Scorpius set the towel aside, he immediately leaned back into Albus’s waiting arms. Scorpius let out a deep sigh of relief as they settled together. He found the cozy crook where his head fit back against Albus’s shoulder, while Albus wrapped one arm around Scorpius’s shoulders, the other around his midsection. Albus’s fingers skimmed back and forth along Scorpius’s side. 

“Alright?” Albus asked again, more softly this time as his lips brushed Scorpius’s temple. “You’re back. You fixed time and no one can ever change it again. I’m here, and I’ll never be anywhere else.”

Albus always said something along those lines to comfort Scorpius from his nightmares, but the words never lost their meaning or importance. He reached up to cover Albus’s hand on his shoulder with his own, clinging to his fingers. 

Scorpius was fortunate enough to often be held by Albus, but even still he marveled at how strong and sturdy Albus’s arms around him were. Scorpius was the taller of the two, but Albus had subtle strength and muscle in his frame. 

Scorpius would never be able to fully express how grateful he was that Albus’s arms were always there to pull him from his nightmares and shield him in their embrace. 

While Scorpius slowly worked up speech, he did what he always did when they shared a bath like this. Starting from Albus’s fingertips, Scorpius slowly traced his way over the back of Albus’s hand, then slowly along Albus’s wrist and up his arm. With each inch of Albus’s skin mapped under his fingers, Scorpius returned fully to reality.

Albus was really here. Scorpius was awake, and the other world was gone.

Scorpius turned his head inwards to rest his forehead against Albus’s chin.

“Alright. I’m here with you and I’m alright.”

Albus held him tighter as Scorpius repeated it again.

The nightmares didn’t come as often as they used to. Either they were fading with time, or Scorpius and Albus had finally learned how to combat them. Back at Hogwarts, they grew accustomed to sharing Scorpius’s bed on rough nights – Albus holding him and whispering reassurances until Scorpius’s desperate grip on Albus relaxed and Scorpius fell back into sleep. 

Soon into the summer, Scorpius had written to say he was struggling against the nightmares alone – that waking up in his bedroom without Albus there let the nightmares linger too long into the day. Even Draco had noticed his son’s sleepless distress, and Harry and Ginny quickly assented when Albus asked if Scorpius could come stay. 

Albus had thought up the idea for a bath on one of the first particularly bad nights – when Scorpius woke up shaking, unable to breathe properly. Albus needed a way to soothe him, and make him fully connect to the waking world again.

Luckily, it worked exceptionally well. Now, it had become the remedial ritual for the two of them to lock the bathroom door, for Albus to wash Scorpius’s hair, and then for the two of them to lay in the bath together until the water went cold.

Scorpius watched condensation dripping down the tiles over the bathtub. He focused on the gentle rising and falling of Albus’s chest against his back. He squeezed Albus’s arm slightly, tethering himself further to this reality where everything was righted again, where he could feel Albus’s bare skin pressed along him and his gentle breathing.

“When I said the stillness is the worst part… I hope you know, it’s because you were missing,” Scorpius murmured, his eyes still staring a bit too blankly at the tiles above the tub. His hair dripped in every which direction against Albus’s back and chest. “Your voice never came from the bed next to mine in the dormitory… You weren’t there to find between classes. Your hand was never there to take when I needed it. The stillness was the worst, because everything was so empty, so lifeless without you in it…”

Albus’s arms tightened, while his heart constricted so much it threatened to cut off his breathing. 

“I’ll always be here. In this world, where it matters – I’ll always be right here with you.”

After Albus kissed his wet hair, Scorpius added, “As long as I’m with you, everything will be alright. 

Albus pulled back slightly to see Scorpius’s eyes. Scorpius became aware of his heart speeding a bit in his chest, and it felt so good, so comforting to feel such a tangible rush of glowing tenderness – To feel something undeniable and unstoppable, too pure and powerful to belong to anywhere but this single real world, and rendering all else impotent in comparison. 

The worst nightmare meant nothing in its wake.

“I love you, Albus. And compared to that, a nightmare is nothing.” Finally, Scorpius managed a true smile. 

“Oh, Scorp. I love you too. I would do anything, everything to take the memories away from the time you spent in that world…”

The pain etched into Albus’s face was almost too much for Scorpius to bear. While he folded their fingers together and squeezed reassuringly, Scorpius tipped his head in closer to press his wet lips to Albus’s jaw.

“You already do.”


	7. Snow Over Godric's Hollow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if the door to the Potters' house had opened just a few minutes later? What if Albus and Scorpius hadn't been distracted from the aftermath of the "If I had to choose a companion" line? In one performance I saw, Scorpius reached over to pull Albus's hood up incredibly tenderly while they watched the Potters - combined with the fondness that's so clear on Scorpius's face when he says the line... It came together to produce this!

"Still, if I had to choose a companion to be at the return of eternal darkness with, ... I'd choose you."

The words transformed icy, razor-edged snowflakes into fluttering, butter-soft beauty. For both boys, the frigid air suddenly seemed warmer - in Scorpius's cheeks where a blush had risen, and in Albus's chest, where baffling but pleasant emotion suddenly unfurled. Scorpius's eyes were turned to heaven, watching his breath mist amidst the dancing flakes. It was so much easier than looking at Albus curled there in the doorway - his wide, too-soft green eyes focused on Scorpius with every ounce of desperate hope, while snow melted in his hair and left wet kisses on his cheeks.

Scorpius hadn't exactly meant for the statement to sound so... dramatic. But sometimes, Albus made him forget himself.

And Scorpius kept watching the falling snow, rather than looking to see how his heavy words had landed in Albus's ears.

Would he recognize how Scorpius had meant them? ... Would he know Scorpius had already wanted to say them for a long time?

The white blanket bedecking all of Godric's Hollow quieted almost all sound, so Scorpius felt rather than heard Albus's warmth approaching his side.

"No offense... But I'd choose someone massive and really good at magic."

Scorpius had known Albus so long now, it was second nature to recognize the joking tone in Albus's voice. The one steeped in fondness, that Albus only revealed to the few people with whom he felt completely at ease. 

Still sky-turned, Scorpius's face relaxed in half amusement, half fond dismay. The words themselves roused a minute shake of his head, while the joking ease of Albus's words made Scorpius's heart flip all over again.

Scorpius closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the icy wash of snowflakes against his face. 'This is why I love him. And I must be out of my mind for it.'

Before he could think better of it, Scorpius pivoted to look at his friend - the only thing more beautiful than a crisp blue winter sky filled with feathers of snow.

Scorpius's mouth opened with the intention of lovingly chiding Albus (something like 'You're terrible in serious moments. The worst.'), but the words caught in his throat once he fully turned.

Albus was standing much closer than Scorpius had expected. Their shoulders were almost touching, and the mist of Albus's breath ghosted along Scorpius's skin. Scorpius reflexively licked his lips, imagining he could taste it.

Albus was blinking a lot, his eyes still all wide and soft in the way that had first made Scorpius's heart go off and his tongue soon follow. And then. Scorpius's breath went next, when he noticed the snowflakes melting in Albus's eyelashes.

Without thinking or even quite knowing what moved him, Scorpius's hands darted up to the blue hood bunched around Albus's shoulders, currently doing no good but collecting more and more snow. With careful precision, Scorpius shook a bit of the snow off and pulled the hood up over Albus's head.

Scorpius licked his lips again, feeling nervous and excited, scared and stupid all at the same time. Now he knew how someone could be pale and red all at once. He felt it in his own face, and hoped it didn't show too much. One of his feet tapped madly against the ground, silent in the snow.

"You should... Um,.. Stay warm."

It wasn't much of an explanation, Scorpius knew. His gaze darting back to the ground, he moved to pull his hands back.

\- until Albus's hands shot up to catch them.

"You already do that."

Scorpius's head shot up again. He blinked about ten times in rapid succession. One of Albus's hands gave his an unmistakable squeeze.

"That's why... Of course I would pick you, too. In seriousness. You must know I would."

There were some words that Scorpius would always remember. ‘You're my best friend,’ ‘You're kind,’ ‘You make me stronger,’ were some of them. And so were these that Albus had just spoken.

Albus was blushing too by now - having also said something with much more weight than teenaged boys were usually comfortable with. In the face of Scorpius's stunned blink-attack, Albus rambled, "I mean, I know it was my stupid ideas that got us stranded here, and I'm sorry I dragged you into all this... But, I really am glad you're here with me."

Only then did Albus seem to notice he was still holding both of Scorpius's hands, clutching them over his own chest. He colored even more, beginning to loosen his grip.

Now it was Scorpius's turn to hold on. He brought their hands together between them, their fingers all woven so tightly together it was hard to tell where his own hands ended and Albus’s started.

"We've been through a lot, some of it pretty terrible and scary, but..." Scorpius swallowed and fidgeted a tiny bit before advancing on, "But really, there's no where I'd rather be."

Albus smiled, and now they were both squeezing equally into the tangle of their entwined hands. Albus found himself increasingly mesmerized by the shine of the snow and sunlight against Scorpius's hair,  
making it shimmer almost silver. Meanwhile, Scorpius couldn't look away from Albus's lips, taking in the ripe rosy color, bright against the cold winter air. Scorpius imagined how blissfully warm they must feel...

Scorpius leaned in without thinking through it first. Without thinking at all, really... Until he had closed half of the space between their faces, and it suddenly caught up to him. He paused in alarm.

Albus had been so distracted by the glow in Scorpius's hair, he didn't notice Scorpius's lurching advance until Scorpius's lips were only inches from his own. But they had frozen in the half-in place where Scorpius's uncertainty had taken over. All at once, Albus found that terribly, unacceptably annoying.

Scorpius's perfect counterpart; Albus never overthought things. He did what his instincts told him was right. Which, at this precise moment, was to both of their benefits.

Albus swayed forward and caught Scorpius's mouth off-center. Utterly surprised and unprepared, Scorpius was helpless to kiss back for a moment - helpless to do anything but bask in the fact that Albus's lips were just as warm as he had imagined. Somehow, even more so.

Albus's hands were squeezing his own so hard it almost hurt, but his lips were all hesitant, gentle tenderness.

Their lips had met in an embrace lacking all symmetry or finesse. They both simply held still for a long moment, catching up and caught up in the pulse-pounding shock of the moment and all the sensations they never could have imagined. Neither of them thought to move or fix anything, because in that moment, it all seemed unspeakably perfect. Neither had expected a simple press of lips could light and warm all the way to their frozen toes.

A door clapped closed behind them. They both sprung apart, turning hurriedly to see Lily and James Potter emerging from their house, pushing a pram.

With a matching lack of grace, Albus and Scorpius scrambled back into the doorway of the house a few doors down. They clutched onto whatever part of the other they could reach, in their scramble to get out of sight and hold each other there.

As the two boys looked on, Lily and James Potter closed the door behind them. They exchanged a few soft words as they checked on their infant son in his pram. Then, they looked up at each other with looks of fond tenderness. James drew his wife closer with an arm about her waist, and their smiling lips met in a sweet, light kiss.

In tandem, Albus and Scorpius both felt their hearts start to go off again, and they became hyper-aware of each point where they touched. Scorpius's right and Albus's left hands wrapped messily together, Scorpius's arm on Albus's shoulders, Albus's other hand clutching the green fabric of Scorpius's jacket.

While Albus kept watching his grandparents, transfixed, Scorpius watched him. His eyes glittering and mouth sloped upwards in a smile laden with almost more emotion, more love than he could shoulder, Scorpius felt the urge to brush each single snowflake from the tuft of brown hair still sticking out from the front of Albus's hoodie. Scorpius simply felt the need to keep touching him - to keep him safe and whole right there next to him, and keep himself convinced Albus was there and not leaving any time soon.

The boys quickly disentangled when the Potters walked by, putting on their best casual-but-friendly smiles so as not to draw attention. Lily's gaze lingered on Albus for an extra moment, but she quickly fell back into step beside her husband.

As Lily and James walked away, the harsh reality of their current predicament threatened to crash back on Scorpius and Albus's heads. But before it could, their hands inched towards each other again in a natural pull. As their fingers slid together again and wrapped tight, each took a deep, fortifying breath.

Somehow, it was going to be all right. Together, they would get through this.

Of course they would – Whatever happened, they were together.


End file.
